


Insult to Injury

by raphae11e



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: M/M, Real Artisans of Renaissance Florence essentially, leo is the king of drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:50:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6243955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raphae11e/pseuds/raphae11e
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't take long to figure out that Leonardo da Vinci and Michelangelo Buonarotti are not the best of friends- they're quite the opposite, in fact. But when their rivalry actually enters the public eye, how can Ezio help Leonardo deal with the embarrassment? Based on an actual event that occurred between Leonardo and Michelangelo, sans Ezio of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Insult to Injury

**Author's Note:**

> quick oneshot while I wait for more inspiration for my multichapter fic! I may add more to it later if I feel like talking more about Leo and Michel's dramatic encounters, heheh.

Ever since Ezio first met Leonardo, he has always known the man to be incredibly good natured. _It seems so long ago now_ , Ezio thinks, but from the very beginning the artist has always had the loveliest smile on his face. Considering the number of frustrating patrons the artist deals with on a daily basis, he is surprised how well Leonardo manages. There are many times that the young assassin knows he would have blown up at a particularly rude client, or an admirer getting a little bit _too_ clingy, and yet here Leonardo stands. Immaculate as ever. He cuts a striking figure, leaving Ezio tongue tied more often than he’d like to admit.

Which is why, perhaps, when the door to the _bottega_ opens abruptly and Leonardo storms through, Ezio is both stunned and worried. He has been waiting since early in the morning for the man to return, hoping to surprise him with an unannounced visit, but the artist barely registers Ezio’s presence. Breathing hard through his nose, Leonardo snatches his own hat off his head and clenches it in his fist. He seems to pause, as if thinking something over, then scoffs loudly and turns around; it is then that he finally spots Ezio, sitting anxiously at the table.

“Ah, Ezio,” he says, almost tiredly. He lets out another short, sharp breath, running a hand back through his wavy, slightly mussed hair. It’s unusual to see even a hair on Leonardo’s head out of place- outside the confines of their bedroom, that is- and so Ezio finds himself becoming even more confused. What could possibly have happened?

“Leonardo,” the assassin starts slowly, standing up to move a bit closer to his lover. “what is wrong, _caro mio_?”

The question seems to make Leonardo upset all over again, his expression moving from tired back to tense in a minute. A genuine scowl places itself on his lips, his brows drawing together into a dark, angry line. “You would not _believe_ what has just happened!” he bursts out, walking forward to meet Ezio. He tosses his hat onto the table carelessly, an unheard of gesture, considering how much the article of clothing means to him. “You would not believe what that, that _barbarian_ just said to me.”

“Who?” Ezio asks, bewildered.

“That sculptor from the Buonarroti family, Michelangelo!” Leonardo’s expression grows impossibly darker at the mention of the fellow artisan’s name. “Embarrassed me in front of a whole _crowd_ of people, in the Piazza della Signoria!”

Unsure of how to help, Ezio allows his hands to hover comfortingly at Leonardo’s sides. “Do you… do you want to tell me what he said?” he ventures, hoping that simply talking will help the man feel better.

“It was just- ugh, _ridiculous_ ! “ the artist continues, almost as though Ezio hadn’t said anything. “There was a group I was speaking with, discussing the work of Dante. As we were interpreting one section Michelangelo walked by, and I extended an offer for him to join us.” Leonardo draws himself up to his full height, crossing his arms defensively. “It was meant to be a kind gesture! Yet the other men around me laughed, thinking that I was undermining his intelligence. _Apparently_ , Michelangelo saw things that way as well. Do you want to know what he said?!”

“Wha-”

“He _said_ to me,” Leonardo enunciates, hardly acknowledging Ezio’s attempt to contribute to the conversation. A blush is beginning to creep up his neck, his hands back to gesturing vigorously. “He said that I was hardly one to judge, as my equestrian monument for the Sforza family had been such a colossal failure that I was ashamed to speak of it.”

There is a beat of silence. Ezio winces, immediately recognizing Michelangelo’s mistake: the Sforza monument was an incredibly soft spot for Leonardo. Pointing it out was a surefire way to embarrass him, and doing so in front of such a large group, in the _Piazza_ of all places, had been a terrible idea.

Looking back at Leonardo, it’s incredibly obvious that the artist has worked himself up again, back into a state of indignant anger. His piercing blue eyes watch Ezio intently, waiting for his verbal reaction, and the blush has made it all the way up to the roots of his hair. Considering the man chose to wear both a rose colored doublet and hose today, the shade is not making the flaming red of his face any less apparent. It is endearing in a way, Ezio thinks, but that doesn’t seem like the kind of thing Leonardo wants to hear at the moment.

“Leonardo…” he begins, resting his hands on the artist’s slim waist. Ezio can practically feel the tension radiating through him. “You know he is just saying these things to upset you. Michelangelo is pigheaded and quick to perceive any comment as an insult. That is why he responds so quickly, and with such violence.” He begins rubbing his thumbs in small circles, feeling Leonardo relax just a fraction under the calming words and physical contact. “You should not let the things he says upset you so.”

Another moment passes before Leonardo is willing to break his sullen silence. “You may be right,” he admits grudgingly. “And perhaps I have given him cause in the past to dislike me. But why must he attack me so openly?! It is uncouth, at best.” He huffs, shuffling a little bit closer to Ezio. “He is my greatest source of frustration. _Figlio di puttana._ ”

The young assassin can’t help but smile at the muttered curse and the man’s need for even more affection. He rubs his palms up over Leonardo’s back, feeling him shiver, and pulls him into a firm hug. Slowly he feels a set of smaller arms wrap around his waist in return. As they pull away, Ezio reaches up to stroke the back of his hand across his lover’s cheek, where the bright blush is slowly receding.

“Perhaps he is just jealous, _amore_ ,” he says, cradling the artist’s jaw in his palm. “He is not nearly as beautiful as you.” And with that comment the blush returns, this time for a different reason, but still just as lovely.

“E-Ezio, stop,” Leonardo huffs, pushing against the assassin’s chest. “ _Dio mio_ , but you’re a tease.” Though his tone is an exasperated one, Ezio can see a smile beginning to tug at the corners of those cupid bow lips.

“Mm, but it is true!” Ezio insists, poking Leonardo in the ribs. The artist lets out a short burst of laughter, stepping backwards out of his reach. Pleased to see that the tension has finally left Leonardo’s body, he takes another step forward, lifting a hand to beckon his lover closer. “Come, shall I demonstrate how you beauty makes me feel?”

Rolling his eyes, Leonardo steps closer to meet him, smiling indulgently. It is with a light heart that he wraps his arms around Ezio’s neck, sealing their lips together with a kiss.


End file.
